


Lucky Accident

by HouseElfWobbly



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Captivity, Dominance, Impact Play, Injury Kink, Masochism, Multi, Other, Sadism, Whump, ankle torture, captivity roleplay, consensual whumpance, do we have a term for that? gentle whump?, kinky queers, meta whump, more sex than I was planning to write, whump as kink, whump with rather small injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 03:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseElfWobbly/pseuds/HouseElfWobbly
Summary: Accidental injury turned into whumpy BDSM scene.For the September/October picture prompt.





	Lucky Accident

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a usual whump story, not even for me, a lover of the non-deadly, boring injuries. But as I love it when whumpees are into the whump, I decided to go with that, and the concept carried me to a much sexier place than I had planned. I'm both sceptical and excited – this is not what I wanted to write, and I think this is obvious at a few points, but I am still glad to have gone there.

Ah shit. Shit. I take the next step. And the next. Ow. Leaning against the cave wall, but it doesn’t take much weight off my foot. Helps steady me though. Phew. Another one. The shooting pain I could get used to, but the throbbing increases with every step, blurring the boundary between pain and plain worry about what damage I am doing.

It’s just a sprain. It’s just twisted. No harm done using that foot as long as it will carry me. I try not to think of the current or future state of my ligaments. Another step. Feels like my ankle is getting stiff. Or swelling up in my boot. The light leather didn’t keep me from twisting it, but it’s probably more support than no shoe at all, so I don’t want to take it off. But it feels tight, too tight, and I’m worried I’ll have trouble getting it off later. Okay. Shit. I sit down on the loamy ground, start to widen the laces on my right boot as far as they will go. Try to slide my foot out carefully, but it barely moves. Feeling stuck, in a moment of panic, I yank at the shoe. Ah, shit. A tear rolls over my cheek. I find myself leaning against the wall, my foot halfway out of the low leather boot. Shit. That hurt.

Much more carefully, I guide the shoe away from my foot. Sliding down my sock only reveals the full extent of the swelling, and I hiss. Yeah, I can’t deny that I should probably stay off that and get it checked out. But my phone is useless in here, and it will be at least half an hour until someone comes looking for me. Also, I have somewhere to be. A light squeeze to my swollen ankle hurts, but not terribly so. It will probably be fine. I take off my left boot as well and let the rough wall help me up. The cool earth of the ground feels good, but my first step is uncomfortable enough to make me doubt my plan. Shit. I grit my teeth. Another heavy step. And another one. There is a corner ahead, and I suspect that I’m close to my destination. I reach it and see the iron bars of a cell.

„Jay!“ That is Di, stripped down to his underwear, chained to a ring in the back wall of the cell. My heart leaps.  
„Jay, shit, what happened?“ His concern gives me a fresh boost of energy.  
„Di. I’m getting you out of here.“ Slowly, I make my way to the bars of Di’s cell and lean against them heavily. Cold, a bit damp like everything here, and a relief. The sense of desperation that creeped into my mind is lifted now that I am in company, but the walk through the cave was not easy on my ankle.  
“Fuck, Jay, don’t be silly–“

I hear steps behind me, and before I can react, feel someone’s breath in my neck. My knees feel weak, but I manage to turn around, dropping my boots. A tall figure looms over me. They must have waited out of sight to surprise me in this moment. Their bright eyes seem to search for something in my face, pin me against the iron bars in my back. “Colors?” they ask.

I take a moment to search my mind, take a breath, avert my eyes, but this is exactly where I want to be. Under their stern gaze, making my stomach flutter and my cheeks burn. “Yellow”, I say. Their eyes seem unsure for a moment, wandering over my face, looking for a sign. “I rolled my ankle”, I say, “but I made it here. I could have yelled ten minutes ago and you would probably have heard it, but I felt like this really fits the theme. Just, I’ve had enough ouchies for now, so no more of that?” Mel nods. But I have a sudden urge. “Unless you could, like, poke my foot to make _that_ hurt more.” They consider.  
“As in, press on it and bend it and stuff? Or make you walk?”  
“Exactly. Not much walking maybe, I’ve had enough of that. But bending and pushing. And like, try to hurt me, but don’t jerk it around or anything, I don’t want to mess it up more.”  
“Yeah, sure. You tell me when I do it wrong though, right?”  
“Totally.”  
“You fine with that, Di?”  
“Yes, let’s do this! Glad you’re ok, Jay!”

Mel’s body starts to loom again, their hand on my shoulder pressing me against the bars firmly.  
“So what do we have here. Sneaking in to get hir friend, right?” I shudder. This is _exactly_ where I want to be.  
“Don’t worry, Di!”, I shout, as the hand on my shoulder yanks me forward and my arms are twisted behind my back. There is a short pause and I catch my balance, favoring my left side, before my captor pushes me through the door, throws me onto a blanket that just happens to be there, and starts tieing my left wrist to the bars, then my right one to a ring in the wall. Damn, this cave is conveniently equipped. The rope hugs my arms tightly and forces me somewhat upright if I want to stay comfortable. Another measuring glance from my captor. “I’ll deal with you later”, they say, their voice full of casual foreboding.

Catching my breath, I notice that they are turning their attention to Di. “Leave him alone!” I shout.  
They laugh and walk up to Di. Cup his head in their hands. Stroke a finger along his jaw. “Down on your knees.” Di obeys instantly. Our captor takes a step back. Their gaze on Di, strict.  
“You sneak down here for your sick little adventures, don’t you?”  
“We… we do, your Highness.”  
“Kissing each other on my premises.”  
“A lot, your Highness.”  
“Using…” they produce a riding crop from under their cloak “…this to beat the other for pure pleasure.”  
“We do.”  
“Do not forget who you are talking to!” A quick step forward, and the crop hits Di’s thigh from behind. “No!” I yell, tearing at my bonds, feeling them hold me. My yell mingles with Di’s.  
“Yes, your… your Highness.”

The captor doesn’t even nod, but slowly turns away from Di, leaving him on his knees, and doesn’t address me before they are standing over me. “And you.”

Their voice is calm, but a dangerous note to it makes my hair stand on edge and my stomach tumble in yearning. I slink back as far as my position allows me. “Y… yes, Highness.” With a slow and steady gait, they come closer and closer. My injured ankle is lying unprotected in front of me, and I do not move. I watch our beautiful captor close on me, watch them kneel down carefully and take a measuring look at my exposed foot. My breath has caught up speed, and hitches as they let their fingers glide along the top of my foot, from the toes to the arch, then, suddenly, firmly grabbing my ankle from both sides and pressing steadily.

They catch the perfect spot and I scream out at their touch. Their hand does not move, but their eyes pierce me. “Do not concern yourself so much with what happens to your friend”, they say, with a nasty sound to friend, “or he will suffer much more than what you just felt.” And they tighten their grip, making me wince.

I feel the need to touch and soothe my newly throbbing ankle, but my bound wrists don’t let me. Instead, I stretch the foot a bit. Ow. I look up just in time to see our captor smile at me.

“Now, of course I can’t have that again. Respect is important in any relationship. But you are lucky, I am willing to teach you.” They unchain Di’s hands and lead him roughly as if on a leash the few steps to the middle of the cell. Di is facing me, our captor by his side. “Take this off”, the captor orders, prodding the bulge of Di’s black velours shorts with the riding crop. I see him shudder, step out of them awkwardly, see his hardening cock just out of reach. Their Highness has stepped behind Di again and begun to trace the riding crop slowly down his back. I see the anticipation build, and soon, quick as lightning, a blow smack on his ass. A pause. Another blow. I see as the spectacle unfolds, Di writhing and whimpering, crying out – “Aaah!” – and our captor swinging his crop gleefully. I feel my own dick come more and more to life as I take in the sight before me.

The captor stops. They tousle Di’s hair, then smack him on the ass with their bare hand. Di winces and shys away, a step closer to me. “So what have you learned?” asks our captor.  
“To respect you, your Highness.”  
“Good. Then we can carry on.”

As they appear over me once more, I am energized by Di’s treatment and excited to get some of my own. Sitting upright, leaning slightly back as I am, our captor approaches me. “Let’s make sure you are in good health before we do anything rough”, they say, bending down to ruffle my short, stubby hair as if I was a show horse, and lift my eyelid in much the same manner. They knee on my side to feel down my arms, down my side, pat down my left leg and finally my right. “Ah well, that foot of yours”, they remark matter-of fact-ly before they even reach it. They lift my leg and take my ankle, which now seems to throb harder in anticipation.

Their hand slides down my shin, stopping here and there to press down, making me shiver. Then, finally, they reach the area that pains me, sliding over the swelling in one slow movement. “Now, tell me how you hurt it”, they say. I swallow. “There was a step that I overlooked, your Highness. I tried to catch my balance, but my foot had already caught, and I fell. Twisted it real bad. Your Highness.” They nod contently and trail their fingernails along my ankle. “Ah well. Impossible to tell with these things. It might be broken, of course, or a sprain. Allow me.”

And with that, they bend my ankle slowly, but steadily inward, the way it had twisted, and while at first it seems bearable, I soon find myself whimpering. At last, they stop. Their fingers wander swiftly around, touching a sore spot that makes me wince, and start bending the foot upwards. I feel the resistance of the swelling, but they push on further, and tears come to my eyes. As they change direction slightly, I shriek.  
“No!”  
“Status?”, they ask.  
Green, oh god so green. “Green!” Just go on.  
They push on a little further. Then, slowly, they release.

I take a breath, notice that I have closed my eyes. Now, the firm hands bend my foot in the opposite direction, extend it, pull it – I can not keep in a small scream, a shriek of surprised agony. I take a breath as my foot is slowly, carefully restored to its resting position, throbbing violently.

My face is contorted in pain, I realize. The fingers are moving gently to poke and prod here and there, finding spots that cause me to wince or hiss, pressing them firmly, each time pressing in harder, keeping the pressure longer, and finally – “Aaaaah” – returning to the one spot they had punished me with before, pressing in gently but relentlessly. Leaving it in favor of a less sore spot, only to return for another round seconds later. My eyes are wet but clenched shut, and I find myself writhing under my torturer’s touch. I have sunken back as far as my tied wrists will let me, and the rope and position add to my helplessness. I am completely in their hands.

“Ah, yes”, my captor says and touches to a less painful spot again, “We’ll make it work, but that got you quite good.” And with that, they untie me. I find a moment to rub my painful foot, but it does not bring me relief – the aching throb burns up bright where I touch it.

Di is brought down next to me.  
“Before I interrupted, what exactly was your plan for besmirching my premises?”  
Their Highness is gazing down at me sternly. I blush.  
“I… was going to blindfold my lover. Make him shiver under my touch. Tease him with my fingernails.”  
“Then please continue.”

Fingers trembling, I cover Di’s eyes. I look back at their Highness. They nod. I take a deep breath. My fingers trail over Di’s shoulder. Scratch at his collarbone. Tickle his hips. Di writhes slightly with each of my movements. I look up at our silent spectator again. They point at Di’s head. I let my nails run down his cheek and along his jawline. Pinch his lower lip. Di lets out a low gasp. I let my fingers trail down his neck, over his chest and along his side, noticing his breath speeding up. Over his hips again, then his thighs – I dig my nails in hard. Di screams and his body convulses, but he does not shy away from my touch. My nails left bloody traces, and I continue, not quite as fiercely, tracing almost parallel lines, leaving marks but not breaking his skin, moving to the inside of his thighs, but closer to the knee each time. I stop. He is breathing heavy in anticipation. My nail digs into his right knee, then lightly wanders down to his ankle and the sole of his foot, before moving on to wander up his other leg lazily, haphazardly, picking up speed now and then, jumping or taking curving detours. Di’s body is so responsive, welcoming each of my small movements, wanting more.

I remember the world around me again when a piece of black silk cloth is put over my eyes. Di notices too, reaching for me, almost missing my arm – I find his hand and cling to it. A dry chuckle reaches my ear. “Now dance for me, lovers.” Our grasp is separated, I find my hand guided towards Di’s body, touching his warm skin, put flat on his lower belly and pushed down until I feel his cock. I hesitate for a moment, then grasp it, Di gasping at my touch. Two hands are pressing on to my shoulders, wander down my back, enclose my hips. My own excitement makes me work Di’s cock heavily, both of us jolted into ravaging desire. A hand slides from my hips into my pants and a gasp escapes me. I am pressing my wet intimates towards the fingers with all my will, frozen for a moment, but exhilarated at the touch, the flash of joy. The fingers let me grind them for a while, then move gently to find my small cock, and I snap out of my frenzy, experience the pleasure in full. I try to pass it on to Di, all of it, I want him to feel what I am feeling, and I feel and hear his response instantly.

I thrust my tiny dick against the fingers that are stroking it off, two fingers, sometimes three, again and again. I feel stabs of joy at its size – it can be grabbed, it can almost be grabbed! The fingers that are pleasuring me know that, they pull, they trace its length, losing it now and then but always returning to give it more, to measure its grown girth, to jerk me off better and better. A flat tap to my ankle, the pain blending in with my arousal – I do not try to escape as I notice that it is a foot pressed to mine, causing jabs of pain. I lean into it, the fingers on my cock following relentlessly, trapping me to my captor’s body. I feel myself so close to coming, Di writhing under my touch, moaning. The increasing pressure on my ankle makes me scream, and my body tries to thrust harder against my captor’s touch, but they have me pinned, their fingers are controlled precision, while I am messily jerking Di’s cock that is hot and firm in my grasp. Whimpering, light exploding in my vision, feeling Di come at the same time, I topple over as much as my captor’s hold lets me, my mind buzzing. They release me. I lie limp next to Di. Feeling his body. Time continues. I feel Di being taking away from my grasp, but I do not move.

I am being pulled up at my shoulders, and for a moment, my right foot touches the ground. With a whimper, I lean hard upon my captor.

“I believe you’ll need my assistance walking.” They don’t give me time to catch my breath, but their arm around my waist steadies me as I carefully put weight on that foot, feels me tense and hears my hiss. Forces me on to take the next step. And the next. My weight rests firmly on the body of my captor, and I focus on my breathing. Slowly, but a bit faster than I would have preferred, they guide me towards the iron bars to stand next to Di, who is now bound to it by the collar around his neck.

There is a moment for me to steady myself before they let go of me. I do not want them to go. I enjoyed being forced on by them, supported by them. I grimace as part of my weight hits my bad foot.

I want to sit down again, this feel more like work than like play and I don’t want to try and see if I can stand long enough for this. The sting in my foot is distracting me, my pants feel uncomfortably wet, and the world overwhelms me. I cling to the bars. I consider changing direction, dropping hints, asking for a timeout, but really, I feel like crying, and my mind is cold and blank, half in my role, helpless, half moved on and out of it, uncomfortable and tired. Di is looking at me quizzically, and Mel is, too. “Shit. Red. I can’t.”

I let myself slide to the ground and feel Di’s hand on my shoulder, he’s crouching next to me as well as his leash allows, then gets up again to unclasp it, before putting an arm around me properly. Mel has crossed the room to do the same, and we sit there for a while. My foot is throbbing and my mind is filled with noise, but with every breath that I take, feeling my partners bodies close to mine, I relax a bit more. “What do you need, Jay?” Mel asks, after a while. I consider. “This. I got overwhelmed. This kind of pain is way more real than anything I have ever played with. Plus this fucking intens orgasm. I’m tired. I just want you to hold me. But maybe we can move it to home? Cozier. And I want an ice pack.”

While Di throws on his clothes and packs up our belongings, Mel finds an ace wrap in their bag and begins wrapping my foot. I wince at their careful touches now and then, but when they finish, the tight bandage makes my ankle feel a bit less sore already. Mel props it up on their bag and gives me a hug. “You think that’s going to be fine? I can take you to the hospital.”  
I consider. Now that the excitement of our scene has subsided, it is just a twisted ankle that I didn’t treat as kindly as I should have. I’ll get it looked at if it doesn’t get better, but right now, all I need is a snuggly evening at home with my partners. “No, I’ll give it a day”, I say and smile weakly. Di has finished packing up. Mel helps me out of the cell, and the corridor is just wide enough for them to walk on either side of me, me leaning onto both of them, hopping on my good leg.


End file.
